


The Problems With Longevity

by cloud_in_a_bottle



Category: Naruto
Genre: ;-;, Angst, Drama, F/M, Fantasy, I am chronically late, Itachi can be kinda singleminded, Minimal editing, Sakura is a little lacking in emotional intelligence, Vampire AU, discord prompt, human Itachi, no beta we die like idiots, they're just having a little conversation, vampire sakura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25295353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloud_in_a_bottle/pseuds/cloud_in_a_bottle
Summary: Itachi wanders into Sakura’s home and a little conversation ensues. Friendly? Sort of!
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Itachi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	The Problems With Longevity

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "I swear I haven't seen that before in my life!" "And yet it is in your possession, in your room."
> 
> So, I took this prompt in a really weird direction and tone, but the idea stuck in my head and just was so fun to write! I'm not totally satisfied with it but I'm trying out the motto "finished is better than perfect." Thank you for reading!

A traveler stepped onto the shaded doorstep of a castle deep in the Namekuji Woods. Imposing double doors blocked his passage, solid but old and weathered.

After months of hunting in vain for the person he sought, he had finally made it to this place. It was not quite the last place he would choose to be, but it was close. He was willing to follow all leads, however, and his hands were still empty. The Unholy One watching over the Namekuji Woods was a…necessary lead.

The Unholy One, successor to the Slug Princess, was … shall he say, an opinionated and sometimes difficult person. She possessed superhuman strength and an explosive temper to rival the likes of the Princess herself. But she of all the members of the old Konoha nation would know how to find this important person. He knocked firmly, trying to strike a balance between nonchalant and assertive.

From deep within the castle, the Unholy One regarded her visitor in her mind’s eye. He was cloaked all in black, hooded and with a melancholy aura about him. Was he prone to melodrama? Malaise? His dark and brooding visage had such a seriousness that the Unholy One wondered what kind of inhuman creature he was. A wraith? Demon? A bounty hunter, perhaps?

No matter. She would know his kind upon his passing the threshold of her abode. He rapped on the door, four quick and successive taps. She quirked a brow at his dark nature from her throne within, though he could not see it, and beckoned.

Heavy, brass-plated double doors taller than two horses swung inward to allow this creature entry. Let him come, like many had come before.

From the entry chamber, a hall extended long and narrow into darkness with a light at the end. The traveler looked over his shoulder one last time before stepping through.

The interior was made of dark stone and the light from outside did not cross the threshold. He caught a flash of green at the edges of his vision and tried not to let it bother him. This place had power, yes… power that he needed.

Once inside, he looked quickly left and right, and turned into the first doorway he came to. A small sitting room piled with furniture and other things. A red fringed rug was ruined with smudges, dents, and tears. It smelled faintly of alcohol and a wisp of smoke curling from under hooded lanterns.

The traveler brought out a charm and held it aloft, muttering. It lifted and swayed on its braided twine fastenings as if by wind. He had been here. Recently, it appeared. The traveler frowned thoughtfully.

The Unholy One propped her head up with a hand, leaning on one arm of her throne. It wasn’t _really_ a throne – throne implied presiding over something, like a kingdom. All Sakura had was this castle. She supposed that was enough presiding for her.

“It’s rude to keep your host waiting,” her voice echoed from somewhere above him. Host, he thought… yes, he would have to speak to the Unholy One eventually. Er… the Lady. It would not be wise to call her by the name that the local humans whispered in fear and reverence.

The long hallway lead straight as a bullet from the front door to an open hall. He followed it, blinking at the enclosing darkness and pinprick of light growing fuller, larger, as he approached.

The castle’s only great hall was broken by two lines of pillars, holding up arching ceiling. Beams of moonlight came in through a plethora of skylights and mingled with large, fire-lit bright spots, creating an almost daylight-esque illusion in the grand hall. A faded gold and green carpet ran the entire length from entrance to raised dais, on which were two simple seats draped with a red cloth and in the left of which was propped a single figure.

His first boot-step on the polished stone floor echoed. He walked into the light, the carpet muffling the sound of his continued march towards the Lady on her throne.

His charm hummed and he nearly faltered for its intensity. It would not do to slink away now, so he purposefully veered to the left. There were indeed a smattering of things littering the channels along the walls. Trinkets, weapons, armor, metallic bowls, statues, jewelry, all manner of things. But it was only one thing which his charm had located. Buried beneath a shield declaring twin crossed pikes, his fingers brushed a familiar fabric. _Proof._

Words twisted inside his head as he walked the remainder of the way to the dais. His fist was clenched around an object thrown so casually into the pile of objects littering the room. The Unholy One looked bored. Is that what had become of her? Bored with all life, immune to the connections of her past?

The Unholy One eyed his still drawn hood and dark hunter’s clothes. This man was a professional of some trade, relegated to fighting or finding, as was the inevitable. She had presented herself before men and women like him before. Always on some quest, always thinking unbelievably highly of themselves.

“If you’ve come to woo me, traveler, you’re going to be disappointed. If you’ve come to kill me, best do it quickly. If you’ve come to bed me, you should know … I bite. Her Inner self fist pumped at the successful innuendo. Small amusements. “Kiss and/or kill, those are typically the reason for these … visits. So, what will it be, traveler?”

The traveler replied, “actually, I have come looking for someone.”

“Other than me…? I can’t say I’m not a little offended, but you’re going to be _really_ disappointed.”

“Hm.”

“These halls are empty, traveler. There are no living beings in this castle. Well… other than you.” She chuckled.

“You are… a vampire.”

She laughed. “And you are not. Tell me, what have you heard of me in your travels?”

He considered. “The locals have warned me that the Namekuji Woods are haunted. By a Slug Princess.”

“Haunted? Humans and their superstitions,” she scoffed. “Idiots, most of them. Don’t even know that the Lady Tsunade is not who ‘haunts’ them anymore. And is my reputation known for granting boons freely?”

“It is not,” he admitted.

“Then why have you come to me?”

“I have come to you, Lady, because I am willing to pay a price for the information that I seek.”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I can explain things. For a price.”

“Then perhaps you can explain how this came to be in your possession.”

He held up a silver metal plate stamped with the symbol of the leaf. It was attached to a dark blue cloth emblazoned with a red and white fan. The leaf was slashed.

“I have quite literally never seen that before in my life,” she said offhandedly after a single glance.

His fingers grew rigid against the fabric. “And yet it is here, in your possession…”

“Oh, people leave all kinds of knick-knacks lying around in these halls…” she gestured broadly with her hands.

“This hitai-ate’s owner would not leave it willingly.”

Her green eyes narrowed. “If you are accusing me of something, speak plainly, black-cloaked, human man.”

He merely eyed her. The red fabric over her throne, the jewel resting on her forehead, her crossed hands and legs fully guarding herself from him. She lied easily to him, but foolishly. Anyone who actually knew of her affiliations would know that she was lying. If she knew who he was, she would know that _he_ would know that it was bold-face lie. Which meant… she did not know who he was.

She stood up and regarded him haughtily. “Have you come to kill me, hunter?”

He cocked his head at her, making his hood shift. “That depends. When is the last time that you saw Uchiha Sasuke?”

She rolled her eyes. “What is it you want with him?” She sat back down and crossed her legs. “Is it to ask for protection for your rural village? Or perhaps you want the immortality of the snake people. If it’s _blade training_ you want, you would do better going to the frogs. Sasuke’s _swordplay_ leaves much to be desired, if you know what I mean. “ She flapped a hand.

The hunter growled a warning. “Oh, so it’s like _that_. Well, sorry for disparaging your _idol_ , but you should really think about worshiping higher beings with more self preservation and less psychosis.”

His eyes flashed red, aura spiking out in anger.

Green light gathered in a knife edge around her hand like a scalpel. She moved as if throwing a knife. In a blinding motion, the traveler blurred before her with drawn sword, having sliced through her chakra scalpel and now leveling the blade in a traditional stance.

“I thought so…” the Unholy One muttered to herself. “Alright, I confess,” she waved her hand. “Whatever, now…”

The traveler was perturbed by her dismissiveness. How loneliness changed her. How grief created a potent disdain.

“You insult my intelligence by lying, you insult the whole of my race, and you insult my own brother’s manhood. I can see why no one visits you anymore, Haruno.”

Her whole face went abruptly scarlet. “Oh!” she exclaimed, hiding behind a hand. “You’re…” she gasped as his voice suddenly fell into place in her mind, tumbled Inner Sakura into a different place, a much earlier time in their lives.

She saw a young man with black hair as wild as the look in his eyes. She saw a young man showing eyes stoned over with grief. She saw a red sky and a black horizon. Satisfaction coursed through her, remembering the time she had bested a genjutsu thought impenetrable. She saw the young man regard her with surprise and respect.

The liminal space was expansive, the horizon flat. Inner Sakura contemplated the black water beneath her feet and imagined a stone ground. It became so. She grinned at her ability to manipulate someone else’s genjutsu, someone else’s pocket dimension. She imagined a golden pyramid with a great stone eye at the zenith, and turned to look up at it from the base. She imagined a knife in her hand, just to make her feel better.

She turned to the other occupant of this space. Inner Sakura wondered if the young man felt a connection to each person he tortured here. No, he probably did not feel time the same as his enemies. Until now, that is. Now, he and she were on equal footing. Anything they imagined could be conjured – none of it real, obviously, but real enough. So she imagined two chairs to sit in, and a little table, and a fireplace – she got cold easily – and two steaming mugs of cocoa. And they talked.

She remembered 72 hours of steadfastly regarding each other. In that dead space and pseudo time, no one else existed – literally, it was just the two of them suspended in that place together. 72 hours of just … talking.

Inner Sakura possessed none of the inhibitions or social mores of the worldly Sakura, so she was able to get over the initial awkwardness of being trapped in a fake world with an enemy fabulously well.

The young man, for his part, was a wonderful listener, and after about the sixth hour, the conversation flowed naturally. 72 hours was enough to change her opinion of him forever.

At the end of their otherworldly time, he said “I should like to see you again, Haruno, under different circumstances.”

‘Different circumstances’ turned out to be seeing herself reflected off of the glassy surface of his grief-filled eyes under another red sky. Eyes that contained the tip of everything that ever was or will be. Or at least, to a young, human, Haruno Sakura, who buried her own grief under his skin in 72 hours of stroking long black hair and impossibly feathery eyelashes. Their kisses were slow and kind. Four letter words that had seemed despondently beyond her reach were asking her to be noticed.

Inner Sakura ebbed away, stunned into silence at the barrage of forgotten things.

“Uchiha… Itachi.”

“Good evening, Haruno Sakura. It has been some time.”

“Why didn’t you announce yourself to me properly?!” she exclaimed hotly. "That's really not fair, Uchiha! I thought you were just some common bounty hunter!"

"Maybe you should invest in better wards, Haruno."

She growled.

“Truthfully, ...Sakura," he used her first name with a softness that betrayed his feelings, "I did not know what I would find here… it has been so long that I did not know… your longevity… Naruto told me that he has not heard from you in quite a long time…”

Her chest twinged at the mention of her longtime friend. Naruto. No, it had been quite a while… and even longer since they were together with the third in their trio of ascended warriors. How her ascension had changed her. Had changed them all. “Naruto…” she stared off wistfully. “And you’re telling me that you are looking for Sasuke?”

“…he is… missing.”

“Naruto doesn’t even know where he is?”

“…he does not.” He waited a moment while she processed this information.

She contemplated.

“I will reach out to him… our connection was always strong. Not as strong as with Naruto, but… oh Sasuke.” She wondered if he had the same problems with longevity that she did. Locked away in her castle, avoidant and self-reliant to a fault.

“I knew I had come to the right place,” he half-smiled wryly.

“My door is always open to you, Itachi…” she said it half because of auto-pilot. Damn niceties were second nature from her Konoha days. But…

Perhaps, she could mean it. Perhaps, after all this time, she could find it within herself to let someone in again.

“Would you… like to stay for breakfast…? I can actually cook now…”

“I would like nothing more.”


End file.
